Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 211

Today is Wednesday, the 29th of June 2022.

Cats, cats ...
Everything gets
Better with
Cats, cats, cats ...

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Grinning cat with laughing eyes... Whatever...

"A Bromford With No Name"

Everything was beautiful
Everything was right
But you could not discern the source
Of this pure delight
Where all your wildest dreams are tame
All your fiction true
But you have less control of it
Than it has of you
It's a place you cannot live
In a Bromford with no name
You can have what you bring in
But it always ends the same
Everyone was beautiful
All the lights were bright
The one you wanted most of all
Was yours without a fight


The movement was so effortless
The poetry inspired
But she was yours without a word
It's you that she desired
It's a place you cannot live
In a Bromford with no name
You can have what you bring in
But it always ends the same
Everything soon disappeared
One thing left to do
The consummation of a dream
Finally coming true
Her mouth, the only thing that's real
The reason you're alive
Your body paralyzed with fear
A kiss before you die

Something's different today. I don't get it.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 210

Today is Tuesday, the 21st of June 2022.

Spider, spider on the wall.
Go away we see you all.

The grinning cat
Got spinning fat.

And that was that.

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"Bromford"

I'm not afraid of the black man running
He's got it right, he's got a better life comin'
And I don't care what the Captain said
I fold it right at the top of my head
I lost my sight and the state packs in
I follow my heart and it leads me right to Bromford



(Oh Keller, oh oh oh oh)
She gave us a medal she gave us a map
(Oh Canner Row, oh oh oh)
If seeing is right, then look where you're at



I'm not afraid of Nichol's Park
I ride the train and I ride it after dark
And I'm not afraid to get it right
I turn around and I give it one more try
And I said things that I meant to say
The bandstand chairs and the Dewey Day Parade
I go out to the Golden Age
The spirit is right and the spirit doesn't change



(Oh Keller, oh oh oh oh)
She gave us a mirror, she gave us a map
(Oh Canner Row, oh oh oh)
If seeing is right, then look where you're at


Andrew Jackson! All I'm asking
Show us the wheel, and give us the wine

Raise the Banner, Bromford Hammer!
Everyone goes to the capitol line
Colored Preacher, nice to meet you!
The spirit is here, and the spirit is fine
Education! Ask the nation!
You gave us our sight and the hearing is fine

Andrew Jackson! All I'm asking
Give us the wheel, and give us the wine

A bandons …

»We don't talk about Bruno, no, no, no…«

»Who is Bruno?«

»Ahm, I wanted to say, we don't talk about Claude, ode, ode, ode…«

»Claude who?«

»This professor dude, Claude de Bussy.«

»Burnside.«

»Sideburns!«

»I don't like sideburns.«

»But he said something about treasure and a City of Gold.«

Professor Sideburns is not listening to all this chitchat. His focus is on reading letters and words on the back of the green treasure map.

And while llama, Kylie and Nigel are singing and dancing a flamenco kind of dance to a tone only they can hear - No, No, No - I keep looking over the archaeology professor's shoulder.

»What are those signs?« I ask. »Can you read them?«

Professor Sideburns is rubbing and cleaning his round glasses with the sleeve of his white shirt.

»It's been a long time since I saw some of those«, he whispers more to himself. »And I am not sure if I ever saw some as old as these. They are like an archaic and long forgotten accent.«

He wipes his forehead from imaginary sweat putting his glasses back on his nose.

»We don't talk about Bruno, no,no, no…«

»Does not work with Claude, ode, ode, ode…«

»Not half as good.«

»Professor?« I ask softly.

»Maybe it's best translated like this, I think.«

And he reads the words,

»Bored of the life in the City of Gold
He'd left and let nobody know.
Gone were the towers he had known from a child,
Alone with the dream of a life
He travelled the wide open road,
The blinkered arcade,
In search of another to share in his life.
Nowhere.
Everyone looked so strange to him.«

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Today is Friday, the 17th of June 2022.

Bruno in the City of Gold.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 209

Today is Monday, the 13th of June 2022.

A scorpion and a spider...
I don't have much of a story about them today.

»Do you think we have something in common?« asks the scorpion.

»Eight legs, baby, eight legs«, the spider answers.

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"A Foggy Day In Bromford Town"

I was a stranger in the city
Out of town were the people I knew
I had that feeling of self-pity
What to do? What to do? What to do?
The outlook was decidedly blue
But as I walked through the foggy streets alone
It turned out to be the luckiest day I′ve known

A foggy day in Bromford Town
Had me low and had me down
I viewed the morning with alarm
The British Museum had lost its charm
How long, I wondered, could this thing last?
But the age of miracles hadn't passed,
For, suddenly, I saw you there
And through foggy Bromford Town
The sun was shining everywhere.

 

T ableaux …

Ding Dong.

The doorbell to my penthouse above the fifteenth floor of the apartment house on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside, is ringing. Again…

»Oh, come on!« I say.

»Must be my assistent«, Kylie says. »I have sent him a message a little while ago right after I have received Professor Burnside's message«

»Sideburn's the name«, Professor Sideburn murmurs. »The name is Sideburn.«

»The archaeologist's assistant's assistant?« I ask. »He doesn't happen to listen to the name Nigel? And he doesn't happen to be your own son?«

»I let myself in«, Nigel says entering the living-room. »We've still got the keys to your penthouse-apartment.«

»Bringing the band back together again«, says the llama chewing some fresh hay from a fresh box.

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Today is Saturday, the 11th of June 2022.

The archaeologist's assistant assistant

T ables …

Ding Dong.

The doorbell to my penthouse above the fifteenth floor of the apartment house on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside, is ringing.

»Who is that?« I ask.

»Open the door and you will see«, answers the llama.

»Must be my assistent«, Professor Claude Sideburns says. »I have sent her a message a little while ago.«

»The archaeologist's assistant?« asks the llama.

»May I?«

The professor the llama likes to call Burnside walks down the hallway and answers the door.

As he returns to the living-room he says, »May I introduce my assistant, Kylie.«

»Are you serious?« I ask seeing my old friend Kylie from downstairs I have known my whole life. »You are an archaeologist's assistant now?«

But she just shrugs.

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Today is Thursday, the 9th of June 2022.

The archaeologist's assistant

E agernesses …

»You know, that green treasure map of yours«, Claude Sideburns, the llama used to call Burnside, says, »it kind of reminds me of an old archeologists' tale.«

»Tail, smail, my ass«, the llama says but the professor starts to speak.

»It was some nine-hundert of centuries ago that the people of Greenolion - a green island covered in rainforests right in the middle of the east-western seas - started to praise Uyulila, the great-great goddess of the deep-deep dark. To get near to her they started digging a deeper hole than the deepest hole ever digged. But they dug too deep and awoke the sleeping Fire Beast that spit fiery magma from the underground. And lava crawled all across over Greenolion covering every tree and house and temple, almost all humans and animals, almost all life.«

I turn around the pages of the Bromford Tribune. Oh, it's fairy-tale-time, I think, keeping on reading.

»But the only surviours kept on digging and digging, deeper and deeper. And even after weeks and months and years they did not find their goddess . And Yuyulila did not come to their rescue. But Flooduloo -god of all seas and lakes and oceans - came to put out the burning island. And so Greenolion drowned in the troubled waters of the east-western seas.«

An article in the newspaper catches my eyes.

»Looks like my llama just bit Ted Kennedy.«

The llama is not amused.

»I am not your llama, dude«, it cries out. »And who the frick is Ted Kennedy?«

»It was some six of decades ago that a man called John Fitzgerald Kennedy was elected president of the United States of America«, Professor Sideburns begins. »And this J.F. Kennedy had a brother called Edward Moore or 'Ted' Kennedy who…«

»Hold it, Burnside!« the llama shouts out. »I don't care about the Kennedys. What about the green treasure map? Will it show us the way to submerged Greenolion and all its' wealthes and riches?«

»No«, Sideburns says buffled. »I just said the map reminded me of that old tale. It will lead us to the long lost City of Gold, didn't I mention that?«

»I will keep the newspaper«, I say.

»To wrap up some fish, dude?« asks the llama in a most poisonous way.

»No«, I reply, »to clean the windows and glass doors later.«

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Today is Tuesday, the 7th of June 2022.

The Island of Greenolion

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 208

Today is Sunday, the 5th of June 2022.

One day a scorpion rode on the back of a ladybug across a river.
In the middle of the river the scorpion stung the ladybug.

Dying and surprised the ladybug asked the scorpion,
»Why did you do that? Now I will die and we both will drown.
Didn't we agree that you would not sting me back on the riverbank?«

And the scorpion said, »This fable is really unrealistic.
Which ladybug should be big enough to carry a scorpion across a river?«

🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂

 

"Bromford"

 

Chase the dog star

Over the sea

Home where my true love is waiting for me

Rope the south wind

Canvas the stars

Harness the moonlight

So she can safely go

Round the cape horn to Bromford

 

 

Red the port light

Starboard the green

How will she know of the devils i've seen

Cross in the sky star of the sea

Under the moonlight there she can safely go

Round the cape horn to Bromford

 

And every road i walked would take me down to the sea

With every broken promise in my sack

And every love would always send the ship of my heart

Over the rolling sea

 

If i should die

And water's my grave

She'll never know if i'm damned or i'm saved

See the ghost fly over the sea

Under the moonlight, there she can safely go

Round the cape horn to Bromford

R abbles …

»Me, I'm just a lawn mower. You can tell me by the way I walk.«

»Finally found your purpose, Burnside?«

»Sideburns, my name is Sideburns.«

»Ah, shut up, Burnside, shut up!«

»Why are you so unfriendly, animal? Don't you like your former professor for archaelogy?«

»He always hated me«, the llama says »I never got good grades, no matter how hard I worked.«

»I do not remember teaching a cameloid animal, you know«, the so-called Professor Sideburns says. »In fact I actually doubt ever teaching a cameloid animal. And please call me Claude, Claude Sideburns.«

»Llama, the animal I like to call animal?« I ask the llama.

»Yes, Bromford, the dude I like to call dude?« replies the llama.

»You know that simply naming a character does not really characterize a character, you know?«

»But I can also describe this Burnside dude.«

»Shouldn't I as author of this blockblog do this?«

»As you wish, your authorical highness, as you wish.«

»Treasure maps are kind of my field of experice, you know?« Claude Sideburns says.

Llama and I are looking at the slender man with the suntanned skin that contrasts with his long white hair and his bushy mustache. He is wearing a beige-white two-parted suit with a buttoned-up jacket and a pith helmet with a mosquito-net-like veil. And he keeps on pushing his round glasses back up because they do not want to stop sliding down his long, crooked nose.

Claude Sideburns is shaking his head.

»Reads like the clichést of all clichés of an archaelogist from the early 1920s, if you want my opinion.«

»1920s, cool. Did you meet Tutankhamun in Egypt back then, Burnside?«

The llama is putting one front-leg around the professor's shoulder.

»This isn't getting any better«, I whisper to myself.

»Art, folks. This is art!« the llama exclaims.

🕘

Today is Wednesday, the 1st of June 2022.

The dream of the lawnmower.